


losing myself in this (could be dangerous)

by thanatopis



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:37:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5240066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanatopis/pseuds/thanatopis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's definitely not love—what they're doing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	losing myself in this (could be dangerous)

Sweat gathers in the crevices of Oikawa’s bent knees as he’s angled back by strong, broad hands. They push apart his thighs as chapped lips brush over the expanse of his milky white skin.

It’s hot out, not surprising for mid-August, and Oikawa makes the hard decision each summer of turning off the AC and opening his windows because he’s a poor college student, living on his own and money is tight enough as it is.

Oikawa can’t feel the heat though, not really, not when Ushijima nudges in-between his cheeks and pushes his hips up even higher, sealing his lips over Oikawa’s ass and licking into him. Oikawa’s breathy laugh shifts seamlessly into that of a startled moan, one that works its way unbidden out of his throat because it’s never any less surprising when Ushijima does this kind of thing to him. It’s filthy and dirty and Oikawa would _never_ do it for Ushijima, but _god_ , does he love it like nothing else when Ushijima’s tongue teases at his hole, eager, looking to please.

Breath hiccupping, Oikawa’s whole body twitches in tandem with the long, sultry licks of Ushijima’s tongue. He’s only absentmindedly aware that his bedroom window is open, that he lives on the second floor of his apartment building and that even now, Oikawa can hear the uproarious laughter of children playing in the streets, totally unaware of the depraved things Ushijima and himself are getting up to in Oikawa’s tiny bedroom.

“Fuck— _fuck_ —” Oikawa writhes on the sheets, his back is damp and the fabric sticks uncomfortably to his skin. He’s going to have to wash his sheets like, three times over to get the smell of sex out of the fabric. Oikawa’s not looking forward to it. He contemplates making Ushijima do it but then reconsiders, because Ushijima doesn’t seem to be the type that even knows how to work a goddamn washing machine.

Interrupted from his thoughts, Oikawa groans low in his throat as Ushijima’s tongue starts fucking into him, deliberately slow and attentive, just the way Oikawa likes it. He gasps and arches, trying to force that tongue deeper inside him without any success. Ushijima is absolutely cruel when he does this. He _tortures_ Oikawa, makes him whine and beg until he’s pleading for Ushijima to stick his cock inside and take him hard. But Ushijima always shakes his head and rumbles something against his skin that shivers through Oikawa’s whole body with how deep and resonating the sound is.

Ushijima isn’t made out of stone however, despite common belief. Oikawa can get him to bend to his will if need be with just a little bit of persuasion. His mouth, funny enough, gets him what he wants nine times out of ten and this time isn’t any different.

“ _God_ , get in me,” Oikawa growls, grabbing roughly at the crown of Ushijima’s head and pushing his face even tighter against Oikawa who then proceeds to grind against it, hips rotating in tight circles.

Ushijima’s eyes meet his hotly, irises burning and it makes Oikawa throw his head back on a cry, biting his lip into his mouth to stifle it. He doesn’t move back or pull himself away; Ushijima just lets Oikawa ride his face, tongue still shallowly fucking into him, making Oikawa’s dick twitch with how good it is, but it’s still not enough. It’s not what he wants.

Oikawa huffs weakly as he makes himself look back down at Ushijima, chanting to himself over and over not to come at the very sight of him. He looks too good when he does things like this, Oikawa can’t help but to get flustered. He whines, something pathetically needy and wanton as his dick jolts, and a bead of translucent white makes its way down Oikawa’s stiff shaft, the color at the head purpling with how much his body needs it.

God, he wants to come _so bad_.

Licking his lips, Oikawa hotly whispers, “Fuck me, I wanna come with your cock in my ass. Hurry up.”

He pulls at the patch of Ushijima’s hair enclosed inside his fist, not caring how hard he yanks Ushijima’s mouth off him.

It’s foolish but Oikawa doesn’t care that Ushijima isn’t wearing a condom. It’s not like they’re sleeping with any other people besides each other and even so, Oikawa likes it better this way. Not that he’ll ever admit that to Ushijima—fuck no—it would probably go to his already inflated head and Oikawa doesn’t need that.

Ushijima groans as he slicks up his cock with more lube, wiping his hand against his sheets as he grabs Oikawa solidly by the waist with both hands and pulls him towards where Ushijima is sitting on his knees in the middle of the bed.

And there’s another thing Oikawa will never admit to liking—that he likes it when Ushijima manhandles him and hauls him around like he weighs little to nothing when Oikawa knows that’s far from the truth. He’s a 170-pound man with compact muscle he’s worked years to build up and maintain and muscle is _heavy_. So in the beginning when they first started doing this and Ushijima had lifted him up by his knees only to pound Oikawa into the wall…well, he had been reluctantly impressed.

Ushijima runs his hand up and down his trembling thighs, spreading them wide as he situates himself between them and angles his cock carefully into Oikawa, slowly pressing in. Oikawa arches his hips into the overwhelming intrusion eagerly, panting hotly as he tangles his fingers into his own hair.

“Fuck, your cock,” Oikawa breathes, tilting his head down to try and watch Ushijima sink and completely disappear into him.

Despite how obviously eager Ushijima is, he always takes it slow, no matter how needy and impatient Oikawa sometimes gets, which is often. If there is anything to like about Ushijima, it’s this. Oikawa appreciates that kind consideration Ushijima shows when Oikawa’s eyes are just a bit too clouded and unfocused.

He moans loudly when they are finally flush together, raking his damp hair out of his face for a distraction because it feels way too good. Too good for it to be Ushijima doing this to him.

Oikawa claws at his biceps, “Move,” His voice comes out as demanding and Ushijima never needs to be told twice. His hips gradually pivot, letting Oikawa feel it—feel every inch of him as Ushijima carves his shape deep inside Oikawa’s body like he wants to make sure he never forgets it, for when they finally come to their senses and stop doing whatever it is they’re doing. It’s most certainly not love—it’s not even _like_ —Oikawa can barely stand him on a regular basis—but _this_ seems to work, it works _so well_ —almost too well.

Ushijima groans, burying his face into the crook of Oikawa’s neck as his hips pick up speed and Oikawa moans, a hand automatically finding itself in Ushijima’s thick hair, hanging on for dear life. The headboard starts to slam against the wall in a steady rhythm, echoing their frenzied movements below, making Oikawa even hotter.

God, his neighbors must be so tired of him by now. Or at least jealous of all the sex he’s been having lately— _good sex_ by how much he screams.

Ushijima’s fucking tiny, needy little noises out of Oikawa now, having risen on his knees and situated Oikawa’s hips into his lap while the only part of Oikawa that’s touching the bed is the crown of his head and his shoulders. The angle makes him convulse, legs involuntarily twitching, breath coming faster and faster as Ushijima batters into him without any intention of stopping.

“ _God_ , you’re gonna make me come,” Oikawa wails, biting his lip into his mouth when he feels that almost painful bubbling sensation inside his balls, feeling them draw up knowingly.

Ushijima grunts, shifting as his hands find purchase under Oikawa’s knees and fold them back, so far that they almost touch the bed and Oikawa whines at the stretch that pulls at every part of his body. He’s gasping air now, like he can’t get enough of it, cock leaking obscene amounts of translucent liquid onto his abdomen and Oikawa runs his hand through it, gathering as much as he can on his fingers before he circles his own cock and starts stroking it in time to Ushijima’s pounding thrusts.

It doesn’t take long, not at all, for Oikawa to come.

“ _Oh god_ —AH—F— _UCK_ —” Eyes rolling back, Oikawa’s mouth gapes, tongue lolling on the inside of his cheek and he comes all over his fist in thick stripes. He doesn’t breathe for a moment, air caught in his throat as stars shine brightly behind his eyes.

Oikawa makes several keening noises until Ushijima comes inside of him with a loud, satisfied groan, body taut and shaking above him, his own orgasm just as intense.

And fuck, Oikawa suddenly _hates_ him—hates him for how how hard and how mind numbingly good Ushijima makes him come each and every single time. A year at this and Oikawa is still waiting for when he won’t want this, for when he won’t desperately need it.

What Oikawa doesn’t know, at least not yet, is how much his need and his want are mutual things.


End file.
